


I can warm you up

by oncetherelivedaboy



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, things get #steamy, trans Zolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29208345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncetherelivedaboy/pseuds/oncetherelivedaboy
Summary: He is grateful to have his own quarters, but it’s not much space to work with, his bed bunked over the desk, the mattress is thin. During the second week on the ship, he’d fallen from the bunked bed after unexpected turbulence. Zolf had stopped in to check on him shortly after the incident, finding him nursing a bloody nose and badly bruised hip. He’d managed to escape a concussion but Zolf had sat with him the rest of his off-shift.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	I can warm you up

It’s so cold in the air ship. Everyone but Wilde, Earhart, and Cel share the communal sleeping quarters, Cel because they had wanted to be closer to the engines, their quarters deep in the center of the ships guts, so that they could keep an ear out for any changes. Earhart, because it was Earhart, and a captain needed her quarters. Cel had known Wilde would need a study, so the room served a secondary purpose at providing him the privacy he so desperately craved at times, it was situated between the cargo hold and the bow of the ship. Cel had done a great job repairing the ship, but insulation in this room was not a priority. Needless to say there was a bit of a draft at times, Wilde had hung some of the spare furs up along the walls and covering the floors, as the journey had progressed and it had helped, but it was still unbearably cold after dark.

He manages better than he had assumed. He’s always been used to the finer things, warm beds, expensive liquor, private rooms and magic at his fingertips when those were not available. In the last two years though, those luxuries have gone by the wayside.

He is grateful to have his own quarters, but it’s not much space to work with, his bed bunked over the desk, the mattress is thin. During the second week on the ship, he’d fallen from the bunked bed after unexpected turbulence. Zolf had stopped in to check on him shortly after the incident, finding him nursing a bloody nose and badly bruised hip. He’d managed to escape a concussion but Zolf had sat with him the rest of his off-shift. He’d shuffled off for a bit to the kitchen, and came back holding mugs of tea and a stone wrapped in soft cotton fabric. The heat helped to ease the swelling in his hip and dull the pain. Without magical healing there was little else Zolf could do but sit with him on the cramped floor, having pulled the mattress down so that he could lay on the floor. It wasn’t ideal long term, but he didn’t want to risk a second injury that night.

The next morning, Cel had come in unprompted to help hang netting from the ceiling to the bed frame.

The day after the aurora he finds the netting and the his make shift insulation gone, it has been folded neatly and stowed somewhere else, scouring the room he isn’t able to find them. Zolf comes in, as he has already dragged the mattress and bedding back down. Zolf is already spilling into the debrief he’d come to expect from Zolf. He looks dead on his feet as he describes what happened while the others were in their make-shift faraday cage. After all the soul swapping and ship weirdness and the aurora, it was clear that Zolf was exhausted. He takes Zolf’s hand very carefully.

“You need sleep, you’ve been up far too long love.”

“I’m fine Wilde. We’ll do the debrief and then I’ll get some sleep.” He says it while he sits heavily on the mattress, his head dipping slightly as he does so. Wilde wraps a fur around Zolf’s broad shoulders, crouching as Zolf explains in sentences broken by yawns how the ship was maintaining itself, the cargo stowing itself and anything out of place being put up. Zolf is still taking as Wilde undoes the clasps on his boots, they come off easily and Zolf does not fight it as he rolls the legs of his trousers up. He knows the mechanisms in the legs, has helped Zolf out of them more times than he can count. Zolf is clipping his words, leaving the sentences hanging as Wilde easily finds the clasps and he hears the faint hiss as the legs disconnect from the ports. Zolf sighs as Wilde sets them aside, rolling the trousers back down and tying them off where his legs end. Zolf just leans forward as he does this, pressing his forehead to Wilde’s shoulder. Wilde carefully maneuvers them both onto the mattress. Using one hand to keep himself from putting his weight onto Zolf as he rolled them both into the bed, and the other to keep Zolf’s head steady against his shoulder. He’s asleep before Wilde has even fully settled himself, A strong arm around Oscar’s middle. Wilde joins him shortly afterwards, fingers curling in his hair and a kiss pressed to his forehead.

\--

Zolf wakes up a few hours later, too warm for the layers of cold weather gear, endure elements and blankets. Wilde stirs next to him as he sits up.

“Gods it is warm in here.” He says, pulling off his jacket, he glances down at Wilde who is shivering now that the blanket has been thrown back, and he snatches it back up, wrapping himself tightly. Zolf remembers the anklets, cutting him from his own magic as well as the magic of others. Zolf is up on deck so frequently he’s almost constantly got it cast on himself. For a moment Zolf can hear the creaking in the walls, can hear the wind and feel the drafts. The walls usually covered in furs are bare, and it clicks why they were hanging up. Zolf shucks off the trousers, and then he is just in his undershirt, he slips back under the blankets. Wilde sighs into him as he curls closer, Zolf’s skin warming him like a fire. Zolf’s fingers undo the buttons on Wilde’s shirt, pressing his hands to expanse of pale, frigid flesh. Wilde gasps, pulling closer, his shirt falling open entirely as he presses himself against Zolf. Zolf’s mouth finds his throat, mouthing warm sweet touches there. Oscar is aware of the tightening in his trousers, tries to push his hips back and away, but Zolf’s thigh is suddenly pressed between his. Zolf’s kiss silences the moan that escapes his throat.

“I can warm you up love. No magic needed.” Zolf whispers and Wilde is in the uncharacteristic predicament of being lost for words. Any grogginess from sleep pushed aside as he nods and Zolf’s hands search lower, undoing the buttons and lacings of his trousers. Oscar kicks them off the rest of the way and Zolf goes back to kissing and sucking and mouthing at his throat and chest, his hands kneading gently against the cotton undergarments, pressing the heel of his hand to his growing erection. Oscar moans and he hears Zolf chuckle.

Oscar’s hand comes down to cup at the warm wet place between Zolf’s thighs, his long elegant fingers finding his clit with practiced ease. Zolf keens beneath his touch. Zolf manages to get the cotton drawers off but not before Wilde has pulled another long low moan from his throat with a switch to his thumb, as one finger pressed against the folds and pushed inside.

Zolf’s hand tugs gently at Oscar’s dick, thumb brushing over the head as hot pre-come dripped from it, and Oscar’s face was buried in his shoulder. A second finger slipped inside and Zolf was already so close from the continuous teasing at his clit. His heart is pounding as he tries to get a grip, to keep himself from coming too soon, trying to focus his mind on Wilde, on the dick in his hand and the warm breath on his throat.

“Come for me love, I know you’ve got more than one in you tonight.” Oscar whispers, noticing the tension growing in Zolf’s movements, knowing that he’s so close, his thighs are shaking, and he reaches the hand up to tangle in Wilde’s hair. Lets him fully take control and push him over the edge. The thumb continues its rounds, moving faster and faster as Zolf takes in quick sharp breaths. Gripping Wilde’s hair and shoulder tight. His mind goes blank as the heat overtakes him, he can hear his own moan but it sounds like he’s underwater. There is a searing light behind his eyes and every muscle and ache releases. When he can finally breath again, Wilde is kissing him so softly, his fingers gone as Zolf lay there, spent for the moment.

“You’re beautiful like this.” Wilde says. “All the time really, but there is something so perfect about you when you let me take you apart like that.”

“You’re not done yet.” Zolf says, his breath still coming in gasps, thighs still quivering. He takes Wilde back in hand, his erection has not flagged. He presses his fingers to Wilde’s lips, and Oscar obliges, taking the digits one by one into his mouth, and isn’t that just a gorgeous sight Zolf thinks. He removes his fingers and his hand moves back down, slow pumps, just enough to spread the slick and then he’s straddling Wilde. Perched above him, he moves slow, enjoying the way that Oscar’s fingernails are digging into his hips, the way the head feels just barely there. Zolf is not usually one for teasing, but the frustrated, fucked out, desperate look on Wilde’s face could make anyone want this.

“Fuck,” The word is whispered and Zolf leans forward, a hand on Wilde’s chest, still refusing to sink any further just yet, he takes one nipple into his mouth, tongue circling the dark skin. Wilde pants, and Zolf knows just how much self-restraint Oscar is exercising, that all he would need to do was roll his hips and get the relief that he wants, but he doesn’t. He just takes sharp inhales at every movement and then Zolf drops onto him fully. Wilde’s eyes nearly roll back as the heat envelopes him. Zolf flips them over, rolling his hips up as Wilde fucks into him, they start as full body things, pulling to the head before slamming back in. Wilde’s hand finds his clit again, his hair tumbling forward as Zolf kisses him, dragging pleasant noises from each other, Zolf’s hand in his hair. The movements begin to devolve, all sense of rhythm lost, as Wilde’s whispered words become nothing more than noises, and then the heat is pooling and Wilde is coming, still jerking into Zolf as he does. Zolf follows again only a moment later, the white hot heat almost too much for his already warm skin.

Wilde is on top of him, his face buried in his shoulder, Zolf’s beard tickling the side of his face. He lifts his hips after a moment and rolls off of Zolf. He is not an unpleasant weight, soft and warm. Zolf grabs a rag and dunks it in water from a basin. He wipes them both down, Wilde hissing at the cold of the water, but not complaining as he pulls the cotton drawers back on. Zolf climbs back under the covers, and Wilde pulls him into his chest. Zolf is breathing in the sweat and sex and cologne that Wilde insisted on buying when they were in Japan. Sure, the world is fucked and everyone’s swapper bodies but for the moment they have each other and Zolf is perfectly content to be Wilde’s personal radiator.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at oncetherelivedaboy.tumblr.com  
> comments are appreciated and cherished


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